Apparently face-planting with a venti hot coffee was the highlight of my day

March 31st, 2015, 7:31 PM by Goddess

Today I went to the office for 45 minutes until the smell of over-varnished floors at the taco place downstairs destroyed me.

Then I worked at home for a couple hours.

Then the Internet went down there for four hours. It came back when I drove my happy ass back to that stinky place and rebooted with my friend in IT on the phone and with him on the phone with the cable company.

It only took seven router reboots!

So I picked up dinner and drove my happy ass back home and resumed editing one of the worst submissions I ever received.

My kid said it was a great article. The “Before.”

Think about that for a moment. When you finish weeping, come back to me.

Well wait till you see the “After,” kid, because this was more than lipstick on a pig.

This was slaughtering that motherfucker and serving up some burnt ends and bacon and pulled pork sliders with the best barbecue sauce in the world. (From 4 Rivers just north of Orlando, natch.)

And now I would LOVE to be packing since I AM MOVING but alas, I have another editorial wonder to cap off this lovely evening. OH and I lose my Internet WHAT WITH THE MOVE this weekend.

So, if shit ain’t done before Good Friday, the bunny will come and go and won’t be able to poop out lovely editorial eggs every day.

Oh and Mom is the only reason I will be able to pull off this move. And she’s so sick and in pain, she may not make it much past the move. So yeah. Thank God I have competent help at home. I just wish I could give the healthcare and salary to her.



Where did the year go?

March 30th, 2015, 2:59 PM by Goddess

So the guy who worked on my broken toof last week is probably one of those people who would gas you and molest you in the dentist chair.

It isn’t the dentist himself. Rather a guy who always jokes with me and hugs me and kisses me on the cheek and in general needs to check himself and remember his baby mama in Miami.

In any event, I was sitting here staring at my empty performance review and trying to wonder WTF I achieved in the last year. I’d say it was 80 pounds of poop in a 50- to 80-hour-a-week bag. But I cannot find a single corn kernel in that poop to write about.

I mean, I kept body count below 1.

I didn’t throw things at anyone.

I didn’t call anybody names.

I assessed very real threats to the business and did something about them.

I networked my little butt off and was able to call in some very big favors when we needed intel and no one else had a way in.

I volunteered to be in the dunk tank and not only am I in it, there are leeches in it and people throw pies at me when I’m up in the air on the seat before they hurl cannonballs at the lever that will send me into the water.

I mean, how do you write that in such a way that HR will happily check off “meets expectations” and move on with their lives for another year?



On happy asses

March 26th, 2015, 5:59 AM by Goddess

The hiring hell has begun again. This time, here’s to people actually being talented in the things they assure you they are talented in.

Here’s to me not calling someone’s alma mater out of sheer curiosity of, “No, really, you conferred them a degree? In THAT? And you were of sound mind?”

I’m planning for more vacancies than I currently have. Not that I enjoy hiring and training and seeing what happens when you’ve invested all your time and it just isn’t successful.

But at some point you have to weigh the risk-vs.reward strategy. And just like any investment, it changes from the very moment you buy the stock. No one says you have to own it till you die.

You can sell call options against it your whole life but at some point, don’t you want to take a damn break and quit having to manage it so actively?

I’ve been feeling defeated because I feel like I bet on some bad stocks. But I was just looking back at their, ah, stock certificates shall we say. The original information that came my way and persuaded me to consider investing.

And you know what? Without knowing what I know today, I would still have taken the chance.

I mean we all make promises in the hiring song-and-dance. We all think we are bright and capable and easygoing and bursting with uniqueness that will dazzle the people in charge.

At least, I think that. After I get past my paralyzing fear of, “Oh shit, I don’t know if I know enough right now. But I am sure going to bust my ass to learn what they want and learn it FAST.”

You know, if just ONE of them said to me, “Goddess, what could I do better to make your life easier / make my writing better / help your workload / learn so you don’t have to / earn my keep / get taken seriously,” I would weep tears of joy.

Instead people wander in and out, do their thing, do their thing even AFTER you tell them their thing sucks, resign themselves to flying under the radar so I don’t notice/correct them, or basically antagonize me till I forget what the fuck I even wanted from them in the first place and I’ll just do it my goddamned self to shut them the hell up.

And while I am 100% invested in sticking around to see success, it’s people like me who will just wake up one day and say, “Guess what. I am gonna take my happy, awesome, compliant, enthusiastic and pleasant ass elsewhere.”

Today is not that day.

But I can’t say I haven’t had that thought more often than not throughout my life.

So yeah. I hate hiring but I am so excited to think that this time, it will turn out right.



Playing whack-a-mole with my demons

March 23rd, 2015, 5:50 PM by Goddess

As soon as this Sunday, I’m getting rid of the Evil Landlady Coalition and the apartment whose doors are now suddenly nailed shut and my beautiful balcony is no longer accessible. (Sigh.)

So, soon that will be two problems down.

And there’s a growing possibility that my greatest antagonists will evaporate.

Five problems down.

And without said antagonists, that opens up the potential to eliminate another problem I haven’t been able to fix.

Six problems down.

What if, by June 23 — just 90 days from today — I could have a completely wiped-clean slate?

Fuck yeah.



A Boy Named ‘Sue’

March 2nd, 2015, 8:00 AM by Goddess

“I’m trying hard to make you love me
But I don’t wanna try too hard
And I’m trying hard to take it lightly
But we’re here now.”

— Broods, “Four Walls”

I have a cousin we named “Sue,” because she successfully sued lots of people and that money is now paying for her nursing-home care.

I know another person who flails their arms and screams, “Litigation!” on a dime.

Now we know where “A Boy Named Sue” originated!

In any event, this is stressing me out and I’ve been taking it out on Mom. More than usual.

She had a mini-stroke this morning as I was overreacting to something. And no, I still haven’t gotten her health care. So I have to leave her at home to go deal with Sue instead.

I used to love my life. I’m going to try very hard to remember those days to get me through.

I just know I’m going to lose my mom sooner rather than later, and I’m going to have a U-Haul and a Pod full of regret on how very wrongly I’ve felt compelled to invest my time while I had her.